


In This Terrifying World

by Calieus



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Artistic Liberties, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Couch Sex, Dirty Talk, Feelings, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magic, Summer, monogatari series inspired, slightly based off kabukimonogatari
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 17:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calieus/pseuds/Calieus
Summary: After the apocalypse that never came, Aziraphael and Crowley live together in peace at a mansion far out from the city. Here they enjoy their days being in each-other's presence without Heaven or Hell breathing down their necks. However, their peaceful days are soon ruined when Gabriel comes for a surprise visit to discuss something important even though he said that he would leave them alone.





	In This Terrifying World

**Author's Note:**

> A long dormant WIP that was supposed to be for a different fandom. I then decided to finish it and turn it into a Monogatari series inspired au that probably only me and maybe 8 other people will care about. There is some made up words in here that I borrowed off the NieR soundtracks for a purpose. This wasn't supposed to include smut in the beginning but the fic decided that it had to happen and here we are. Title of fic comes from one of my favorite Bojack Horseman lines and the chapter title is taken from Illuminate by Yellowcard. Enjoy.
> 
> Huge thanks to [readytoocomply](https://readytoocomply.tumblr.com) for looking this over for me. ;w;

_“Kelsey, in this terrifying world, all we have are the connections that we make_ _._ _”-Bojack Horseman, Fish out of Water_

Crowley lazes on the couch in the living room as he flips to the next page in _Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy_. His sunglasses lay on the glass coffee table that also houses one of Crowley’s plants. There are construction people in the story who want to destroy Arthur’s house to build a highway and that can’t be legal at all. He continues to read and things start to get a little weird. Aliens called Vogons appear to destroy Earth in order to build a highway.

“Wait, so Arthur’s house gets turned into a highway anyways?” Crowley asks.

“It does, yes,” says a voice. “That’s called irony and I never took you as one for reading books, dear. What brought this on?”

Crowley looks away from the book and towards Aziraphale. He stands at the edge of the couch with a mug in his hand and all he’s wearing is a white shirt that barely goes past his hips. It takes a lot of willpower for Crowley to not stare at Aziraphale’s bare legs.

“I was curious, that’s all,” Crowley says. “Saw you reading it and was wondering as to what was so funny. Which I guess it seems to be funny so far, but I’m not that far yet.”

Aziraphale takes a drink from his mug.

“It gets hilarious, trust me, and then later in the sequels as well,” he explains. “For example, when they’re trying to find the answer to everything and to find it, they have to wait 5 million years. It’s a little mean to make people wait that long…”

Crowley’s not paying attention to what Aziraphale is saying at all. He fails at not staring at his legs and is currently watching the edge of Aziraphale’s shirt brush against his thighs. Crowley spots a flash of red as Aziraphale continues to ramble about the book. Say if Aziraphale were to stretch, it would reveal what is, for sure, a pair of red underwear that Crowley himself bought for specific kinds of activities. He continues to stare at Aziraphale’s legs in anticipation to catch another glimpse of said underwear.

“Crowley?”

“Yes, what?” Crowley snaps back to reality.

“Did you fall asleep?” Aziraphale asks. “You weren’t responding to anything I was saying after a while.”

“It was hard to respond when your legs are far more interesting than any book plot.”

_I just said that out loud_ _. S_ _hit. _

Silence befalls the room and Crowley feels himself wanting to dissociate. Aziraphale continues to stand there looking cute with his stupid mug and curls that shine in the glow of the sun. His expression is blank and Crowley wills himself to sink into the couch. How could he say something so embarrassing? Why did he do this to himself?

“…I was hoping you would say something like that,” Aziraphale says with a soft voice that made Crowley feel like he’s about to explode into demon dust. “Well, not that exact line, but you get what I mean.”

“So, this was all an elaborate plan to make me embarrass myself into saying something dumb?”

“More or less.”

“…damn you, angel.”

“But you’re so cute when you get flustered!”

“I’m a demon!” Crowley shouts. “Demons aren’t supposed to be cute!”

“Well, I beg to differ. You are so cute.”

“Angel, please.”

“The most adorable snake demon to ever exist.”

Crowley at this point can really feel himself wanting to disintegrate into demon dust. Even though he’s gotten many compliments from Aziraphale over the years, it still makes his heart flutter.

“I’m not adorable,” he says. “You’re the adorable one.”

“Well, we’re both adorable then.”

“Angel, no, please.”

“Oh, come on Crowley,” Aziraphale says. “Nothing is here to stop us from showering ourselves in compliments to last for an eternity.”

“…You’re right, but I still can’t quite get used to it no matter how many years have passed.”

Aziraphale takes another drink from his mug then sets it down on the table. He walks over to Crowley and leans down to place a kiss on his head.

“Just know that you do deserve love, dear.”

“…”

Crowley places a hand behind Aziraphale’s head and guides their lips to each other. The press of their mouths is soft and warm and it fills Crowley with love. He pulls away and places his forehead against Aziraphale’s. 

“Your temptations are still in play, angel,” he says. “I saw that you’re wearing the gift I got you.”

“Of course I am. It is quite lovely.”

“Then would you mind if it got a little dirty?”

“Oh, my dear, I expected it to.”

Crowley adjusts into a sitting position and places his other hand on Aziraphale’s ass. He gives a firm squeeze and Aziraphale lets out a muffled moan.

“My, so eager.”

“Shut up and kiss me, angel.”

Aziraphale obliges and crashes their mouths together, Crowley letting out a pleasant moan. The kiss is a bit rough, though also soft since Aziraphale’s mouth is as soft as he is. Crowley pries his mouth open with his tongue and slips inside the warm cove. He then places his other hand on Aziraphale’s ass and pulls him towards him. Hands grip into Crowley’s hair and a knee nudges itself against his groin. Crowley groans into Aziraphale’s mouth and flicks his tongue against the roof of it. He squirms against him from the action. Smiling, Crowley does it again and the knee on his groin grinds against him. His erection burns against the fabric of his pants and Crowley wonders if Aziraphale’s is the same. He slides one hand over to Aziraphale’s crotch and gives his silk panty-clad cock a firm squeeze. Aziraphale’s moan is like music to Crowley’s ears. He breaks the kiss.

“Already hard, are we?” Crowley says. “Such a filthy angel.”

He gives Aziraphale’s cock another squeeze.

“C-Crowley,” Aziraphale moans out.

“Ah, yes, please, angel. Moan my name out,” Crowley says. “Moan and beg me to fuck you.”

“Oh, please fuck me, Crowley!”

“So eager,” he says. “But not quite yet, angel.”

Crowley gives Aziraphale’s cock another squeeze as he places his other hand on his head. He smiles up at him then starts to push Aziraphale’s head down. Taking the hint, Aziraphale removes himself off Crowley and gets on the floor on his knees. His hands place themselves on Crowley’s knees.

“I want you to beg for it more,” Crowley says.

Aziraphale smirks.

“Why, of course dear,” he says. “I would expect no less of you.”

“Then get going angel, I’m growing impatient.”

Hands work their way to Crowley’s pants and unzip the zipper. His cock tents the fabric of his black boxers and hides whatever mess is most likely there. Aziraphale leans forward and blows onto it; Crowley shivers. He kisses the head then licks it with a swift motion. t just about sends Crowley to the moon, a shock of pleasure coursing through him from that simple gesture. Aziraphale makes eye contact with him as he flicks his tongue once more over his cock. Crowley holds in any noises. With one last lick, Aziraphale ever so gently puts Crowley’s cock into his mouth, or rather just the head.

The inside of Aziraphale’s mouth is warm through the fabric of Crowley’s boxers. He gives a hard suck and the shock of pleasure is almost enough to make Crowley orgasm. Aziraphale sucks some more and even throws in some more licks from his tongue. Crowley moans in pleasure as Aziraphale continues to suck him off. It’s pure bliss, though Crowley’s boxers are starting to get a little too wet for his taste.

“Angel,” he moans out. “These boxers are becoming a nuisance.”

Aziraphale gives one last suck then pulls away, a string of saliva connecting them before it breaks off.

“Then let’s fix that, shall we?”

With no warning, Aziraphale pulls down Crowley’s boxers and has them rest between his thighs. His cock springs from the motion and splatters a bit of pre-cum onto Aziraphale’s face who makes no motion to wipe it off. Aziraphale licks his lips and wastes no time in putting Crowley’s cock back into his mouth. He licks the head and gives several sucks. Crowley moans and places his hands into soft locks of hair. He pushes Aziraphale down further and soon his entire cock is in his mouth. Aziraphale licks his entire shaft and Crowley cries out in pleasure, then licks the tip and continues to brush over it. Crowley feels his pre-cum leaking even more and pressure builds up in his stomach.

“A-angel,” he moans out. “I’m going to…”

The sentence is cut off as Aziraphale gives a partically hard suck that renders Crowley useless of all words. He grips harder onto Aziraphales hair as he licks and sucks harder. The pressure builds up and Crowley can no longer hold it in. Crowley moans as his orgasm spazzes into Aziraphale’s mouth, some cum dripping out of the corner, but Aziraphale doesn’t care. He rides out Crowley’s orgasm and once it’s over, he lets go with an almost cartoonish pop. Aziraphale makes no motion to wipe Crowley’s mess off his face, smiling up at him.

“That was delicious,” he says.

“Angel…get off the floor and onto my lap now.”

Getting up, Aziraphale obeys and wastes no time in climbing onto Crowley’s lap. He places his arms around his neck, legs hugging Crowley’s thighs, and hovers over him. Crowley immediately smashes their lips together. He tastes himself as he shoves his tongue down Aziraphale’s throat. Crowley grabs his ass and slides a finger under the thin piece of fabric of his thong. He caresses the curve of Aziraphale’s ass and stops at his hole when his finger hits something hard. Crowley breaks the kiss and gives Aziraphale an amused smile.

“You had this all planned out.”

“Well, yes, such things require a bit of preparation in advancement since I know you’re-”

Crowley shuts him up with a kiss then grabs the base of the butt plug and pulls it out. It comes out with a wet pop. He tosses it to the ground with a thud and then guides a finger into his ass. Aziraphale put a lot of lube in beforehand as he’s quite wet.

“My, you really did prepare, angel,” Crowley says between their kisses. “How long have you been at it?”

“Since yesterday.”

Crowley wiggles his finger around.

“I’m impressed, and more so that you used the powers of miracles to keep yourself lubed up.”

“I did, yes,” Aziraphale says as he wiggles a little. “Though I figured that it would help to save some time.”

“That, you’re right on.”

Removing his finger, Crowley grabs a hold of Aziraphale’s butt to guide it to his waiting cock. He minds the string and pushes into Aziraphale’s warm insides. A pleasant moan resounds in his mouth as Crowley pushes further in. Once Aziraphale is fully seated, Crowley breaks their kiss and stares into his eyes as he says his next words.

“Fuck yourself, filthy angel.”

Placing his hands on Aziraphale’s hips, Crowley holds him in place as he moves up and back down onto his cock. The pace is slow, probably so Aziraphale can get a feel for what he wants. Despite their many times of doing this, Azirahale is tight, but his ass still sucks Crowley’s cock in with ease. Crowley rubs along Aziraphale’s hips as his pace starts to quicken, each movement sending pleasure throughout him and he moans in content. Aziraphale groans as he continues to slam up and down onto Crowley’s cock in rapid succession.

“You look so good like this, Aziraphale, always so eager to fuck yourself on my cock.”

No retort is made which is a surprise, but Aziraphale seems to take the comment well as he just moves even faster. Moans leave Aziraphale’s lips as he gets lost in pleasure. Crowley relishes in the sounds. It takes a few more thrusts before Crowley starts to feel pressure building up.

“Aziraphale,” he says. “I’m close.”

“I am too, dear.”

Aziraphale shortens his thrusts and only takes in half of Crowley’s cock, but with the same feverous motions. Moans fill the room as the pressure builds up in Crowley’s stomach. With one last hard slam, Crowley comes. His cum squirts out in spurts into Aziraphale’s ass and even leaks out as he rides it out. Crowley loosens his grip on Aziraphale’s hips and slumps his hands as Aziraphale continues to work Crowley through his orgasm. Once Crowley’s orgasm subsides, Aziraphale’s comes in one last thrust. His cum splatters onto Crowley and onto the couch in a streak of white, the panties becoming sticky and wet. Aziraphale’s is over quick. He removes himself off Crowley’s cock and then slumps onto him, panting.

“What a lovely way to start the morning, dear,” he says.

“It was, yes,” Crowley says. “A very good morning that we should do more often.”

“I agree.”

Silence befalls them as they catch their breaths and while Crowley would like to slump further into the couch, they’re a bit of a mess of sex and cum. He nudges Aziraphale with his hand.

“Come on, get up,” Crowley says. “We need to get washed up.”

“No one is here though, dear.”

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious, but I know that you don’t want to miss breakfast.”

“You’re right.”

Aziraphale gets off and immediately heads to the living room’s door. Crowley lets out a laugh.

“Always so impatient.”

He gets up from the couch, fixes his pants, grabs his sunglasses, then walks over to Aziraphale and opens the door, holding it open for him.

“After you.”

“Why, thank you,” Aziraphale says as he steps out into the hall.

Crowley follows him and shuts the door with a soft click. He turns to face Aziraphale who has his hand out. He takes it and gives it a soft squeeze. Aziraphale smiles at him then turns around and starts walking down the hall.

Sunlight filters through the giant windows and onto a red carpet. Above hangs mini chandeliers that light the hall with a dim glow that’s enough to light the landscape paintings on the wall. Outside, an endless field of white flowers stretches around the mansion. Crowley gives Aziraphale’s hand another squeeze as they continue to make their way down the hall. It isn’t until they reach the second to last door on the left that Aziraphale lets go.

“After you,” he says.

Crowley laughs and steps past Aziraphale to open the door. He passes by him and Crowley follows then shuts the door. The bathroom is big - the tub sits at the back and is about the size of a small pool, towels hanging to the left of it, and the toilet sits on the opposite wall from the tub. A clothes rack sits right next to the door and the sink opposite of it. Behind the tub is a giant stained glass flower that shines in the morning light. Crowley walks up to the tub and turns on the nob for the hot water, then the cold. He then snaps his fingers and miracles away his clothes out of laziness.

“Every single time…” Aziraphale comments.

“It’s for convenienc,e angel,” Crowley replies as he feels the water’s temperature. It’s just right.

“You say that every single time, dear.”

“Oh, come on. You do the same, too,” Crowley says.

“Only sometimes, not all the time.”

Rolling his eyes, Crowley sits on the edge of the tub and waits for the water to finish filling. Aziraphale mingles about in the large cabinet that’s in front of the tub. In it is a wide variety of different soaps and other bath supplies. Crowley doesn’t care too much for using such things, but every so often, he admits they’re kind of nice. Checking the tub, Crowley sees that it’s full and leans over to turn off the water. He looks in Aziraphale’s direction who is still looking at the wall of bath supplies.

“Don’t forget the rubber duckie,” Crowley says.

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

Crowley turns around and slides into the tub. He sighs in content as the warm water envelopes him. Behind him, he hears Aziraphale shut the cabinet doors and the patter of his feet makes their way towards Crowley. A bottle of shampoo, body wash, the rubber duckie, and bubbles are placed beside him. He grabs the rubber duckie and places it in the water then eyes the bubbles with a curious gaze.

“Strawberry paradise?”

“We hadn’t tried this one yet, so I figured we would.”

“Really?” Crowley asks. “I thought that we tried every single one. There were more in there?”

“Yes, there are more in there. A lot more than either of us realized.”

“And I take it that it was you that did it?”

“Perhaps…”

“Then we’ll have to try every single one sometime.”

Aziraphale smiles at that and reaches for the bubbles. He opens the bottle with a pop and pours some of the pink liquid into the tub. Crowley waves his arm around and bubbles start to form, some floating into the air. Aziraphale closes the bottle and sets it on the ground. He finally climbs into the tub and breathes a sigh of content.

“The water is perfect.”

“Indeed, it is,” Crowley says as he pops a bubble. “If it gets too cold, we can always change it back.”

“Hm.”

Crowley sinks a bit further into the tub, the water lapings at his chin. He hears Aziraphale next to him open one of the other bottles, maybe the shampoo, though he doesn’t care. Crowley closes his eyes to let the calm of the water soothe him over. He can hear Aziraphale moving around. The water swishes around and he can feel some bubbles blow into his face. The shower hose turns on and Crowley cracks open an eye. On the opposite side of the tub, Aziraphale moves the nozzle over his body before it touches his soap covered hair. Crowley goes back to his other activity and doesn’t notice Aziraphale in front of him.

“Your turn, dear.”

“Hm…no.”

“Don’t be an uncooperative snake demon,” Aziraphale says. “Or, I’ll…spray you!”

Crowley opens his eyes and scrunches his face in confusion.

“Spray me with what? Bubbles?”

“With this.”

Aziraphale holds the nozzle’s handle and warm water sprays into Crowley’s face. He leaps up and uses his arms to block the onslaught of water.

“What am I, an animal!?”

“Technically speaking, you kind of are.”

“Ugh,” Crowley groans. “Okay, you can do your washing thing. Please stop spraying me.”

The nozzle turns off and Aziraphale smiles at him.

“Thank you, dear.”

Crowley shakes his head.

“Never change, Aziraphale.”

“I’m not going to anytime soon,” Aziraphale says. “Now, come along and let’s get you washed up.”

Crowley slides over to Aziraphale and turns his back to him. The nozzle turns on and warm water cascades down his head for a couple of seconds. It turns off and out of the corner of his eye, Crowley watches Aziraphale grab the bottle of shampoo.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley says as hands touch his head. “Why did you choose me of all demons or whatever?”

The question just flies out and Crowley isn’t sure why he’s even said that. The hands in his hair stop for a second then go back to massaging his head.

“Because you’re you.”

“That’s…not really an answer.”

“It’s not the one you or I are looking for,” Aziraphale says. “But I can’t really think of something more definitive.”

“…I see.”

“I wouldn’t dwell on it too much, dear. We both know how we feel, so does it really need a specific reason?”

Crowley doesn’t respond. That’s true and he shouldn’t dwell on it too much. Though, sometimes he can’t help to dwell on certain things even after many millennia.

“You’re probably right,” he says. “I shouldn’t think about it too hard, but there are…times where I can’t help but do so.”

The hands in his hair leave and Crowley almost whines at the loss of contact. Warm arms wrap around his neck and wet hair tickles his cheek.

“I love you, Crowley.”

Heat rises to Crowley’s face at the words. He’s heard them spoken so many times and yet every time he hears them, it always feels like his heart is going to break.

“I…I love you too…Aziraphale.”

A kiss is placed on Crowley’s cheek.

“Now, we should finish up in here or we’ll miss breakfast.”

Crowley laughs.

“Of course,” he says. “Wouldn’t want to miss that.”

* * *

The dining hall is massive. A long wooden table sits in the middle of the room, the ceiling is made of glass and holds a golden chandelier, and to the right of the table is a set of massive windows that overlook the field of flowers. It’s a sight that never fails to impress Crowley with its beauty. He’s standing near one of the windows looking out it as Aziraphale sets the table. The sky is clear and there’s a small breeze as the flowers sway around.

“Dear,” Aziraphale calls. “The table is ready.”

“Coming.”

Crowley turns away from the window and walks the length of the table to the end where the head of the table is. A plate sits at the head and at his spot right next to it, on the plates is some sort of dessert that Crowley has never seen before. It’s a white cake with white frosting, a strawberry sits in the middle, and it smells of milk.

“Aziraphale, what is this?”

“It’s a cake called Tres Leches,” he responds. “I’ve been wanting to try it for a while so I decided that we should today.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It means three milks, as it’s a cake made from three different milks.”

“Never heard of it,” Crowley says. “But it sounds like it can be good.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

Pulling out the chair, Crowley sits down and scoots a little closer. Aziraphale takes his place and picks up his fork. Crowley watches Aziraphale cut a piece of the cake, some milk dripping out from it that looks a little gross, but he doesn’t care as it goes right into his mouth.

“How is it?”

“It’s delicious, try it!”

Picking up his own fork, Crowley cuts his own piece and ever so gently puts it into his mouth. Sweetness fills his mouth as he chews on the cake.

“This is quite good,” he says. “How did you find this?”

“In one of the many cookbooks from the library.”

“So those books were good for something after all.”

“All books are good. Crowley,” Aziraphale says. “You just don’t know it.”

Rolling his eyes, Crowley takes another piece of the cake and chews on it. He’ll need to ask Azirapahle to make it more often. They eat the rest of it in silence and once it’s gone, Crowley decides that he wants another piece.

“Can I have some more?”

“Of course you can,” Aziraphale says with delight. “Have as much as you like.”

Before Crowley can respond, a loud ding echoes through the entire room. He drops his fork on the table and stares at Aziraphale with wide eyes.

“That was…the doorbell.”

“It was, but in all the years we’ve been here, it’s never rung.”

“Stay here,” Crowley says. “I’ll go see who it is.”

Aziraphale gives him a concerned look.

“I don’t like that. I should go with you.”

“No, no. It’ll be safer this way in case something happens.”

“I still don’t like it, dear,” Azirapahle says.

“I know, but trust in me, alright?”

“…Fine…”

“I’ll be fine, Azirapahle,” Crowley says. “There’s no need to worry.”

“…Alright.”

“Be back in a bit.”

Getting up from his chair, Crowley walks across the long stretch of the room and to the large wooden doors that go into the hall. He opens them and steps out. The doors close with a loud clunk. Crowley doesn’t take the time to look at the scenery. He walks as fast as he can down the hall and to the front entrance. Once there, he stares at the door. Whoever is there, they’d better not be someone dangerous. Sucking in a breath, he places his hand on the knob and turns it.

Crowley opens the door and white petals fly into the sky as his eyes widen at the visitor. Standing there among the petals with his hands behind his back is Gabriel, his white suit blending in with the surroundings. He gives Crowley a smile that sends a chill down his spine. 

“You’re looking good, Crowley,” he says.

“Gabriel, what are you doing here?”

“Checking up on you two lovebirds.”

Crowley grips the door knob.

“What do you want, Gabriel?”

Gabriel frowns at the question.

“Come now, that’s no way to greet an angel.”

“Do I look like I care about that?”

“Rude as ever, I see,” Gabriel says. “I thought all these years away would make you a little nicer.”

“Why would I suddenly turn nice? I’m not supposed to be, you jerk.”

“I should be calling you that.”

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?”

“No retort?” Gabriel asks. “That’s a first.”

“Answer the damn question, Gabriel.”

“Fine, but you need to let me in first. It concerns both you and Aziraphale.”

Crowley glares at him, not that Gabriel can see it that well through his sunglasses, but he hopes that he can at least feel it. 

“I won’t smite you on the spot,” Gabriel says. “I would have done it by now if this wasn’t an important matter.”

“This had better be quick, Gabriel.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it will be,” he says. “Now, can I please come in?”

Crowley steps out of the way, but his glare remains. He watches Gabriel walk up the rest of the way and step into the mansion.

“The place looks lovely,” he comments.

Closing the door, Crowley turns to Gabriel’s direction. His hands are clasped behind him and he’s staring at the glass chandelier hanging in the middle of the room.

“Do I look like I care what you think of the place?”

Gabriel laughs.

“So, so rude.”

Crowley clenches his fist. If he could have his way, Gabriel would be gone right now.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?”

“I know that,” Gabriel says. “But for now, can we save the insults for when we discuss things?”

“…Fine,” Crowley says as he points to the right hall. “Right this way then, divine bastard.”

Gabriel doesn’t say a word as he turns towards Crowley’s pointing hand. His suit glimmers in the stray rays of light from the windows. They pass by the many rooms and curtains lining the walls in silence, save for the patter of their steps. Gabriel walks with his head held high and Crowley continues to glare at his form. They reach one of the entrances to the dining room and Gabriel comes to a halt. He turns to Crowley.

“After you,” he says.

Crowley moves past Gabriel and opens the wood engraved doors. He sees Aziraphale look up from his plate at the noise.

“Dear, you’re back!” he says with cheerfulness. “What took you so long?”

“We were catching up.”

Aziraphale’s smile vanishes and his expression turns to shock as Gabriel steps past Crowley. He walks to the middle between the table and the door in a slow pace. Once there, he stops and lets his hands fall to his side. Crowley watches Gabriel tilt his head to the left with an expression that he can only assume is a smile.

“Hello, Aziraphale,” he greets. “It’s lovely to see you again after all this time.”

“You are not welcome here, Gabriel,” Aziraphale says with malice. “You said that you would never bother us again.”

“I am hurt,” says Gabriel. “And yes, I know that you both told me and Hell to get lost, but we can put that aside for today. I have something that I need to discuss with you both.”

“And what would that even be?” Aziraphale asks. “We already discussed enough when you lot tried to kill us both.”

“Well, yes, but this matter is much more important that unfortunately requires me to come and pester you.”

“Alright, make it quick, then.”

Gabriel adjusts his posture and Crowley eyes him with a suspicious gaze. From what Aziraphale told him, Gabriel is someone to approach with caution.

“Right then, let’s get started,” Gabriel says. “Aziraphale and Crowley, due to both of your actions in making the apocalypse happen exactly two weeks after it was originally averted, you both are to be executed immediately.”

The room goes silent. Crowley’s face scrunches in confusion and he’s sure that Aziraphale’s is the same as well.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Gabriel,” Aziraphale says. “We averted it and have been living out here for the past ten years. No apocalypse happened. Are you sure that you’re alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Then what the hell are you talking about?” Crowley speaks up. “I do not remember starting any sort of apocalypse.”

“Surely you both remember it, right?”

“Uh…no?” Aziraphale says. “I think you’re not remembering things all that well here, Gabriel.”

“As we both stated, me and Aziraphale have been living out here for the past ten years in peace away from the likes of you,” Crowley says.

“How can you not remember? It was quite a spectacular event if I say so myself. A lot of snow fell that day.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, Gabriel,” Aziraphale says. “I probably would have remembered something like that if it happened.”

Gabriel makes no reply and walks to the window as he looks up at the passing clouds.

“I wouldn’t want to remember what you did either,” he says. “It took us ages to find you and I must admit the flowers were a clever idea to conceal your location.”

“Well, there’s no snow here,” Crowley says. “And I have no idea what you’re blabbing about with the flowers - they’re just flowers.”

“…You both really don’t remember?”

“Uh…no?” Aziraphale says.

“That is…quite interesting.”

“Okay, so, are you done?” Crowley asks. “There’s nothing to suggest we did cause the apocalypse, so can you get out of our house?”

Crowley watches Gabriel’s demeanor change; his hands fall to his side and then Gabriel’s head tilts towards Crowley. Purple eyes shine with an eerie glow. 

“I am not fond of such disrespectful demons. If not for the circumstances, I would not hesitate to put your sorry ass in its place.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“That’s too bad,” Gabriel says. “Because you should be.”

Crowley feels the room go cold and he swears that he sees Gabriel’s eyes glow even brighter.

“Gabriel…” Aziraphale speaks up. “Don’t you dare think of trying anything.”

He turns away from Crowley and towards Aziraphale. While Crowley can’t see Gabriel’s expression, the look of fear on Aziraphale’s face tells him all he needs to know.

“I wasn’t going to try anything, but since you’re both not cooperating, I’ll need to take measures.”

“What are you planning, divine filth?” Crowley demands.

Gabriel turns back to the window.

“A fun little surprise,” he says. “Though before we begin, I want to say that the flowers are lovely and will surely be missed.”

“Gabriel, leave at once!” Aziraphale shouts. “You are no longer welcome here!”

“Oh, don’t worry, angel, I’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“Then get the hell out.”

No comment is made as Gabriel raises his arms up towards the sky. Crowley watches him with caution. He isn’t sure what is about to happen, but whatever does isn’t going to be good.

“Dzena siye nakaiz, vidi edi fside.”

With the utterance of those ancient words, the sky turns black and the sound of a robotic roar fills the room. Crowley’s eyes widen in horror.

“What the hell did you just do, you bastard!?”

“He…he summoned an Executioner,” Aziraphale’s voice trembles. “Gabriel, you know that they’re only supposed to be summoned as a very last resort.”

“Well, this is a last resort,” Gabriel says. “I can’t go dirtying my own hands, angel. Don’t worry though, this will be over quick.”

“Why are doing this to us, Gabriel?” Crowley asks.

“Because, Crowley, life is full of mistakes, you know? And your dear angel just made one.”

The robotic cries grow louder and Crowley looks up just as a black round thing comes crashing through the ceiling. Shards of glass spray everywhere as the thing descends like a bird. It crashes to the left of the table with a loud crunch of glass and another ear-piercing roar. Crowley tilts his head up to stare at the monstrous form; its body is massive and round, bits of metal stick out from husks of flesh, and what is maybe the thing’s head is a tight helmet protruding out two red eyes from the sockets. He takes a gulp of air and the thing glances down at Crowley with maybe a curious gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley sees Gabriel move to stand in front of the Executioner. Taking this as a cue, Crowley moves away from the door and speed walks to stand next to Aziraphale.

“Such a beautiful, ugly, creature, is it not?” Gabriel says. “We call this one Yaiel.”

“Gabriel, it’s not too late to stop this,” Aziraphale says.

Laughter fills the room.

“That’s a riot coming from you,” Gabriel says. “You two certainly didn’t stop in making the apocalypse happen, so I am in no way obligated to listen to you.”

“None of this still makes any sort of sense,” Crowley speaks up. “You keep rambling about us ending things when I know that didn’t happen.”

“My memory is quite clear, demon,” Gabriel says. “I remember the sound of the wretched bells that were heard all throughout heaven and hell. Sounds that can only be described as an ear-piercing chime. And you idiots are playing dumb about the entire thing.”

“Because we don’t know anything, Gabriel!” Crowley shouts. “If we had a hand in what you’re blabbing about, then I’m quite positive that it was not us who did it.”

“Oh, but you did do it,” Gabriel says. “Just because you’re playing idiot doesn’t mean that I don’t remember what you did. I should kill you both right here and now by my own hands, but my orders say otherwise.”

“Alright, so I guess that thing is going to kill us then?” Crowley asks.

The smile on Gabriel’s face sends a massive chill down Crowley’s spine.

“Yes.”

Yaiel growls, or what sounds like it, and Crowley snaps his head in that direction. Its mouth opens to reveal two sets of ugly sharp teeth and a mouth ridden with scars. It lets out a horrific scream. Crowley covers his ears and closes his eyes the moment he sees Yaiel make a beeline to where they’re at. Yaiel jumps onto the table, it cracking under its weight as Yaiel steps ever so closer to them. Crowley pushes a hand forward and shouts the first thing that comes to mind.

“Unstrafala!”

A red glowing ring filled with angelic writing on the inside surrounds Crowley before shooting outwards with a chime. It hits Yaiel and the creature lets out a scream of agony as the ring rips through its body. Purple blood spews out of its body like a river. It paints the floor around it and splatters onto the windows. Crowley doesn’t take in the gruesome sight and ignores Yaiel for now as he grabs onto Aziraphale’s arm.

“Run,” Crowley’s voice shakes out. “We need to run.”

Aziraphale nods in confirmation and Crowley wastes no time in sprinting to the door on the otherside of the room. He hears Yaiel shriek behind him and somehow Gabriel’s voice falls through it all.

“So that’s how it is, then?” Gabriel’s voice is cold. “Fine. I’ll play your silly little game. Yaiel, go after them, and don’t come back until both of them are dead.”

Yaiel lets out an ear-piercing shriek just as Crowley grabs onto the handle of the door. He yanks it open and pulls Aziraphale into the hall. Crowley catches one last look at Yaiel; its wounds smoke as they heal, most likely Gabriel’s doing, and with one eye, it stares at Crowley. He slams the door shut.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Aziraphale says. “Not sure what that was, but it worked, and I think you should do it again.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Crowley asks.

“Because I most certainly can’t be bothered to conjure up whatever that was,” Aziraphale says.

“It was an angelic rune attack,” Crowley says. “You should know a few of them. And I’m kind of surprised I remember it myself.”

“Is that what they called them? Well, I can, then, but no thank you. That Executioner is way too scary.”

“You’ve faced Satan, Aziraphale,” Crowley says. “And witnessed the terrors of human history. A big, terrifying monster should be a no brainer.”

“It’s trying to eat us, Crowley, and I don’t think attacks from an angel will have any effect on it.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“I’m not,” Aziraphale says. “But since it’s from heave,n I would assume that it’s resistant to anything angelic.”

“So, what you’re saying is probably only a demon can defeat an Executioner?”

“I guess?” Aziraphale says. “I never got the details about them besides that they are only to be used as last resort.”

“You never bothered to find out what it was?”

“No…I figured there were some things about heaven that I would rather not know about.”

“Alright then,” Crowley says. “So we don’t know what this Executioner is other than it wants to eat us. Got it.”

Silence befalls them and Crowley remembers he’s still gripping Aziraphale’s arm. He lets go and turns back to the door.

“Well, we better hurry and get out of here before that thing attacks us again.”

“I am very much all for that plan.”

They both go down the hall in silence, neither saying a word as their footsteps echo through the vacant area. Light shines down through the windows shimmering everything in a cake of golden beauty. If the situation didn’t call for such frantic measures ,it would be a beautiful sight. Crowley looks behind him.

“I don’t think it’s going to get up anytime soon, dear.”

“Can never be too sure,” Crowley says as he faces forward again. “That executioner seems like a tricky bastard.”

“It most certainly does, yes.”

“Are you sure that you know nothing about them?” Crowley asks.

“I’m positive. All I know is that they’re dangerous and to only be used in emergencies.”

“Wonderful, so we’ll just have to attack it until it’s dead.”

“You attack it, yes.”

“You know what I mean.”

They reach the end of the hall and Crowley looks around the room they’ve ended up in - the front entrance.

“This is a terrible spot to be in. We need to get out of here,” he says.

Before either of them can utter another word, a loud, pain-filled piercing scream echoes through the halls of the manor. Crowley freezes at the sound and his eyes widen as the thump of large footsteps vibrate the floor.

“Shit, Aziraphale, run!”

In one quick motion, they both sprint to the front door as fast as they possibly can. The footsteps get louder and Crowley feels his heart beat against his ears. He runs faster as the sound continues to grow. The door is a few steps away.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t heal that quick,” Crowley shouts.

“An Archangel can heal things much better and faster than us foot soldiers can,” Aziraphale says. “It’s something they take pride in.”

“That’s great to know then, angel,” Crowley says. “So great it doesn’t help us in fighting this thing off.”

As soon as the words leave Crowley’s mouth, a loud crash sounds off to his left. He doesn’t look towards Yaiel and instead grabs the doorknob and yanks it open. Cold air blasts his face and the shimmer of snowflakes fall like petals.

“What in the world?” Aziraphale gasps.

The setting sun shines in reds and purples as snow falls from a cloudy sky and onto the endless field of flowers. It would make for a beautiful sight if, for one, it wasn’t weird and two, a spawn of Heaven was chasing after them.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley says. “Did we really cause this?”

Behind him ,Yaiel lets out a shriek and Crowley snaps back to the task that he’s supposed to be doing. He scrambles out the door with Aziraphale following behind him. They both run a distance and Crowley soon comes to a halt in the middle of a patch of flowers. He turns around to look back at the mansion. A flash of gold appears in the door and then a shriek sounds before Yaiel bursts through. Glass and debris fall onto the ground and slide off Yaiel as it rushes towards them. White petals fly up around Yaiel, creating a swirl of white and, even outside, its feet shake the ground. Crowley looks back to Aziraphale.

“You might want to cover your ears and maybe your eyes too. It’s going to get messy.”

“Try not to get us too dirty,” Aziraphale says.

“You’re really thinking about that at a time like this?”

“What?”

“Fine, whatever, I’ll try to be careful.”

Aziraphale covers his ears and Crowley turns back to Yaiel. It’s only a few meters away. Crowley reaches out his hand towards the oncoming Executioner. He sucks in a breath then mutters long ancient words of an angelic rune.

“Moitrashnahya prehar.”

Swirls of red particles surround Crowley’s hand before expanding outward into a circle. The particles stay like that for a second and then converge into one solid circle with floating letters of angelic writing. The circle floats up and turns on its side, the letters floating all around it. A second passes before the circle lights up and shoots towards Yaiel in a brilliant flash of red. Yaiel jumps into the air to dodge it, but the circle follows and slices right through its massive body. Purple blood splatters out of Yaiel like a firework before falling into purple rain. The shriek Yaiel lets out is akin to that of a couple of thousand nails on a chalkboard as it collapses into a pile of purple goo on the ground. Crowley covers his ears as best as he can to drown it out. Yaiel withers on the ground for a good while, its shrieks quieting down and soon, it stops moving altogether.

Crowley removes his hands from his ears and collapses to the ground, shoulders shaking, and petals fly off into the sky. He feels a hand place itself on his shoulder, but he doesn’t look at Aziraphale. Instead, Crowley lifts his head to stare at the stars and the falling snow.

“Angel? What does this all mean?”

“I wish I knew,” Aziraphale says. “Something is going on, but I’m afraid that I don’t have the answer.”

“We’re in the same boat then. Something has happened that we apparently did, and yet we have no clue on what it is.”

“That is correct.”

“I think I killed it, Aziraphale.”

“…You probably did, yes,” he says. “However, that thing was no angel like me or Gabriel. He said so himself.”

“I know, and yet for some reason, I feel so bad that I did it.”

Warm arms slither around Crowley and he feels the prickle of tears around his eyes.

“It’s not your fault, dear, it’s not,” Aziraphale whispers into his ear.

“Yeah…I know…”

Tears threaten to fall, but Crowley holds them back. Now is not the time for them.

“We should probably leave,” Aziraphale says. “Gabriel is bound to notice that something is wrong.”

“Yes, we should,” Crowley says.

He moves to get up and the arms around him fall off. Crowley turns to Aziraphale and holds out his hand. Without a word, Aziraphale grabs it and they both walk away from the corpse of a celestial being and the quiet life that they once had.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [Tumblr](https://fadingrequiem.tumblr.com)


End file.
